WHO:Emma Swan & Neal Cassidy WHEN: Saturday Night WHERE: The Cheesy Fry Bar WHAT: Emma and Neal go drinking; Emma tries to be annoying; she might've failed. WARNINGS: Mild; swearing & drinking STATUS: Complete
Challenge or not, Emma figured she could really do with a proper night out enjoying herself. The fact that she was sure of a job come Monday just meant that she was more likely to really enjoy herself, last day of non-working freedom and all. Sunday could be a total waste if it needed to be, at the very least Emma was going to see what the OC had to offer as far as bars. Although the promise of cheesy fries was definitely part of the allure.
Meeting Neal at the bar, Emma was looking to let loose and relax, and if it came with a hang over the following day, so be it. And since it wasn’t ‘girls night’ or anything similar, she’d opted for a simple henley and jeans to avoid worrying about spilled drinks or greasy marks.
“Okay, so I have a strict policy against the fancy fruity drinks.” Emma drank like a fifty-year-old man, her alcohol was meant to be biting and strong, she wasn’t one for the softer, sweeter mixes. “Liquor and grease, that’s what you said.”
For some reason, Neal had guessed that about Emma. He knew it like he knew her, and the link between them had switched realities and carried over into this lifetime - something he felt very strongly on his end. It was just that she was home for him, she had been then, and he loved her until he literally took his last breath. That was something you just didn’t forget, alternate realities aside.
“Don’t worry, I’ve got you,” he chuckled, gravelly, and flagged a bartender down - an older man who looked like he’d seen the whole world, but it was a small dive bar and nothing hipster. Best cheese fries though, for real. A plate of those fries were ordered, and for Neal, he stuck with bourbon - drinking it straight. When the selection was shit, in bars, you could get away with ginger ale added but not here. This stuff was good.
And he needed it now, especially after waking with the key to the Dark One’s vault on the bedside table. The design on the relic, the ancient talisman, matched the burn that had been seared into his palm after a previous bad dream. Receiving the key had freaked him the fuck out, actually. But he wouldn’t think about it now. “Excited about starting on Monday, then?” he asked Emma.
Emma was still getting her head around this place, all the new things she’d found out, the weird dreams, the fact that she could occasionally wake up as someone else. It was going to take a while, and she was doing her best at ignoring parts of it right then, so focusing on normal was her current crutch.
“Yeah, I mean, mixed. I’m excited, but sort of nervous too.” It was the usual agitation before new jobs, the usual kind of worry. Would she still like it? Would the people there like her? Could she cope with the hours? Would it be at all awkward working with Neal? They seemed like valid concerns, but Emma knew that by Sunday night she’d have all the worst case scenarios playing out in her head.
“I’ve already got my ‘first day outfit and hair’ planned though, so I think I’m doing okay.” At least she wouldn’t be worrying about that, right?
Neal smiled crookedly, the kind of warmth that reached his eyes. “That’s a good thing. Means you’re thinking ahead and its one less part to worry about?” he said. “The usual jitters, I get that, but you’re going to be great.” And it’d be fun working with Emma too - any excuse to see her, he was fine with. He wanted to be friends, and he wanted that easy rapport and the joking and the whole just getting each other thing.
It would be hard when she dreamed of him leaving. Thinking that he’d betrayed her, her walls fortifying and becoming thicker, keeping people out. She knew him though, she knew him well, and she’d waited in Tallahassee for a couple years for the explanation he wished he could have given if his own insecurities and fears hadn’t gripped him in a chokehold. But he hadn’t come and he needed to apologize and explain his reasons for that. Neal had thought a lot about everything and he decided that even if the pain of reliving it all would be harsh for the two of them, it’d be worth it to be there this time so they could get their second chance in some way.
A second chance besides him coming back as a disgruntled ghost to haunt the shit out of every asshole in that little town in Maine.
“You’ll probably be kept so busy the time will go quick too,” he added. Their drinks arrived and he picked up his bourbon for a sip, aaah. “I was thinking we could do the donkey rescue thing, set up a program? That could be your first project. Like, getting that situated.”
The OC was never anything Emma had envisioned for herself, she wasn’t a beach and sun and sea type of person; she was loud cities and getting lost in people and concrete walls. But there was just something about this place, and maybe it was that strangeness that drew people in, that drew her in, since apparently there were connections all around her and she just needed to dream about them to figure out it. She wasn’t sure she really got it, but she was sort of okay with seeing where it went.
Apparently it wasn’t something new or strange that only she went through, so how terrible could it be?
“Oh, that would be so great.” With one hand curled around her drink, grin splitting her face, Emma gave Neal’s wrist a squeeze. “Like, I don’t know what it’d be like around here, but the number of people who don’t realise how important proper care is for donkey’s is ridiculous.” As much as people were difficult for Emma from time to time, she really got animals. She really just loved animals.
“I seriously have no issue with long days, or hard days,” she was used to that, she liked that really, especially when it was something you could enjoy, something that made you want to work for it all. “Just put me to work and, well, I’ll be happy.” Somewhere active, with friends, she could be happy with that. Sipping at her whiskey, still beaming at the thought of working on a donkey sanctuary again, Emma felt a lot of the apprehension settle down. “This is going to be so amazing.”
Well, damn, Emma’s enthusiasm was sort of catching. Okay, a lot catching. His grin turned into one of the face-splitting variety, behind his glass for a moment, and the warmth of the bourbon was definitely helping too. Toasty flavor, a little caramel, a little sweet. “Actually, it may be the first donkey rescue initiative in specifically Orange County.” Neal had done some research, because he’d wanted her first project to be something she could dive into and really get behind - before they began the work of maintaining the riding trails in May.
And the cow pregnancy tests, but luckily that was a winter thing.
“There’s one donkey rescue place in a neighboring county that’s, you know, strictly donkeys as opposed to just an rescue animal farm. So it’ll be a lot of collaboration, I’m guessing.” Maybe a part of him wanted to bring something Tallahassee-oriented here too. “And don’t worry, Orange County weirdness usually fucks off for awhile once it happens. Lulling us into security,” he teased, but before the body swap the last weird thing (and he didn’t count the truthiness shit, that was just glorified word vomit) had been maybe the snow in December. Then again, he’d heard it tended to snow every year here anyway.
There was nothing to sneer at when it came to collaborating with anyone, any rescue centre was a rescue centre, and really, Emma hadn’t run anything when she was at Munroe’s place, she’d just seen to the upkeep, care and then the check ups on rehomed animals. But she was always willing to learn things. It probably got her a lot more giddy than the whiskey, although that probably assisted things, but she’d definitely slipped into the excited to start stage.
“I think in general, larger scale rescue farms are harder to run.” She’d asked Munroe once why he stuck to horses and donkeys, and it’d simply been because he knew how to care for them. Sometimes giving the wrong care to animals did just as much harm as neglect. “But expansion from that, you know if it’s something people think could work, it’s probably do-able at a later date.” It was just sad that these things needed done.
The drama and weirdness that went along with the ridiculousness of being swapped out into another body was something that Emma figured would take a little while to seem ‘normal’, which meant it was somewhat comforting to know that it wasn’t a regular occurrence. “So really all I need to worry about are the dreams screwing with my head?” It kind of was a little bit comforting though.
“Mm, basically,” Neal looked sheepish, a crinkle of his nose. Because as much as he bitched about this place, it was still where he felt like he ‘fit in’ the most. Weirdly enough. Maybe it was that the dreams sort of fucked with everyone’s heads, and you could learn from not only your own nighttime (or...naptime) disasters, but other people’s too. Sometimes the shit his friends had going on contained valuable anecdotes or helped him sort through stuff. And other times, it was just kind of cool to hear about. Lina was a medieval sorceress. John Smith was some kind of timey-wimey space traveler. Garrus was an alien with a pineapple-cockatiel kind of head, how awesome was that?
But he’d be honest about it, with Emma, and relay his experiences for her if it would help soothe her worries in any way.
The swinging door that led to the small kitchen was a blur of motion, bartender emerging with the large plate of fries. Greasy, smothered in cheese that was piping hot - you really wouldn’t go wrong here. “Ladies first,” he motioned to Emma to dig in when the sustenance was placed in front of them. “But yeah, most of the time you just have to wonder what happens next in your personalized soap opera. And then bitch about it in our special snowflake community.”
For all that it was ‘ladies’ first, Emma didn’t even bother thinking about things like cutlery when the food arrived, digging in with her fingers on some of the cheese soaked fries to quickly and probably idiotically, shove in to her mouth. Piping hot was definitely not something her mouth liked. The usual hand wave over her mouth and continued chewing really didn’t do anything to stop the burn, but Emma was fairly repetitive when it came to things like food and just carried on regardless, tongue tingling a little from the burn.
“I guess that’s part of it, right?” Covering her mouth to sip a little at her drink, mostly looking for a piece of ice to pick out and suck on for a while, Emma sort of understood it. No one was really alone in going through all this stuff by themselves, and it probably helped that everyone had something going on.
Hanging out in some places, feeling like you were the only person dealing with shit, it was really lonely. But so far, Emma hadn’t really had the chance to feel lonely around here. Everyone was welcoming, everyone was friendly, everyone had the same shit to learn to cope with and still seemed to be upbeat about it all. So it couldn’t be this horribly debilitating shit all the time, could it? Otherwise, if people were as nice as they were, they’d probably tell you to leave the second you crossed into Orange County.
“It’s kinda like a movie sometimes, right? Watching this stuff happening and just not even believing it. I mean, nothing’s been so out of this world that I can’t believe it’s real, probably just a lot of moving around again.” Emma was pretty sure she was a nomadic spirit, she had to be if she’d gone that route and now dream Emma was making those same plans. To run and just not stop, not until she’d found home. Wherever that was.
Whoops! Don’t burn your mouth, Em. Neal kind of had the same problem though, grabby fingers that led to a scorched tongue - but the cheese fries were just so good, he felt like he was five years old again. Hovering over the counter, nose sniffing, for racks of chocolate chip cookies that had yet to cool, and he’d snatched one anyway - it had happened once, he was sure. Before there was no one to even make those cookies.
“It’s like a movie,” he agreed. “And in weird ways, it parallels your life here. Like, with me - “ He took a sip from his drink, then popped another cheesy fry into his mouth, going slower this time so as to avoid burning the roof of his mouth. “If you want the comparisons, um...here, my mom left when I was in kindergarten. Married someone else, died in a car accident later. My dad tried to raise me but he sucked at it, before he disappeared. Then the man my mom married took the reins but...he left too.” Head of a crime syndicate wasn’t really fit for raising a teenager - and now Neal was stupid enough to go back to him while he was on his deathbed. But he at least felt he deserved an explanation, and a chance to say goodbye. The gift of closure.
But anyway. “In the dreams, my mom left too, while a war was going on and they were drafting kids on their fourteenth birthday - but she left the family to be with a pirate. My father chose having power over me and let me fall through a portal alone. I met up with that pirate a bit later but he dumped me off on an island with a group of brainwashed orphans.” And he was pretty sure Hook had never apologized for that either, nor for being a selfish asshole and running off with Milah during the Ogre War - she basically left her kid to die, no one had ever apologized, no one had ever taken responsibility or was held accountable. It pissed him off. No wonder he had self-esteem issues, that August had preyed upon so easily when it came time to convince him to leave Emma.
“Sometimes people here are there too. Just in different ways. My fiancee’s there but we didn’t cross paths much.”
That all kind of made a little bit of sense, in a really sad way, but still. Emma hadn’t been raised by her biological parents, she knew this. And apparently dream-Emma hadn’t either, dream-Emma hadn’t even gotten adopted really, since she went back into foster care at three. It was unfortunate to think that her life could’ve been so drastically different, the way Neal explained things like they held the same path in a sense. At least this time around Emma got sixteen years with parents that loved her.
The biggest thing that was really hitting Emma right then was, “Pirate?” It sounded like a fantasy novel, or a movie, really, if they wanted to keep with that comparison. Pirates and power and portals, oh my. It sounded a lot more like something that might’ve happened at the turn of the century, like four centuries ago. “Do we time travel now too? Because I have to say I never actually managed to watch that Time Travelers Wife movie at all. It got really confusing.”
If her dreams were going to start throwing her into fantasy worlds and altered times, she might need to write them down to keep a timeline. Then again, a dream journal might not be such a bad idea here. “Is that like… you saying that dream-us, we meet. I’m gonna start finding all these people that I’ve only ever dreamed about?”
Talk about meeting the man, or woman, of your dreams.
“Well, it’s kind of a long story,” Neal admitted, with a laugh, and now that the fries were cooler he could shovel in more without burning his mouth. He sucked a bit of gooey cheese off the edge of his thumb before going on. “No time travel but just think ‘bizarre fairy tales and different worlds.‘ Fantasy and fiction, and all that. Personally, I was in a place where I didn’t age for awhile. That island of brainwashed orphans was Neverland. Time passes weirdly there. Then we just meet after I get to the modern world.” And he was alone, working odd jobs, stealing, keeping himself afloat. Not too much different than what he’d done after his stepfather left him on the side of the road too.
He’d probably advocate for a dream journal too though. It was a good idea, to keep everything straight. “I’m actually of the opinion that everyone from our dream world is out there somewhere,” he shrugged. That brought up thoughts of Henry and the trip to check on him but he wanted to wait to mention that. Until Emma had some idea of who Henry was - until she knew that Neal had been the father of her son in the dreams. It would sort of couch things, he assumed. “Maybe not in the way we remember, but they’re there.”
So, the body swapping and alternate world dreams weren’t the only weird things, good to know. Now she’d have alternate world dreams that included fairy tales? Maybe? Probably if that’s what Neal was coming from, and they met eventually. So her dream world must be the same as his. “So,” munching through some of the fries herself, more than sure they’d be ordering up some more because yum, Emma mulled it over, “anyone that I meet in my dreams, I’ll maybe have the chance to meet here.” It had to be here, presumably. Or maybe she’d already met them somewhere else, and they were still working their way towards here.
Whacky.
“So, how did you get outta the island of brainwashed orphans?” It sounded interesting, and sure she could be a little skeptical, but she was having dreams of another life, so really, how untrue could it be? “Or am I gonna find out about that in my dream anyway?” Finishing off her drink, Emma ran her finger around the rim of the glass. She wondered if she’d start to get that feeling, the one where she sort of got the impression that she knew Neal, with anyone else in Orange County.
“There’s the chance, yeah. It’s a whole other reality and - “ Well, Neal would also wait to bring up his ‘cursed’ speculations too. That it was a similar concept to what had happened with the Dark Curse, brought to a whole other world with a different set of memories - he didn’t believe it was exactly the same type of thing, that they were exactly the same people (because he was obviously dead there, and wasn’t here) but it was still kind of a similar concept. “...I don’t know, there’s probably some physics theory out there. Multiple universes, you know, things of that nature?”
Another plate of fries it was, if they were going to be digging this deep. And more drinks.
Funny that Emma asked how he got out of Neverland, because he’d also just received the infamous coconut. That damn thing. It was on a shelf in his room, and he didn’t really know what to do with it yet. Hopefully he wouldn’t have to actually use it. “I built a trap,” he explained. “And used it to catch this, um, creature which could give me a lift off the island. But I was there for awhile, it definitely sort of sucked. I don’t really want to dream of all that again on a repeat episode.” And the notion that Pan had let him leave made him feel prickly. No, he’d escaped using his smarts and cleverness, and by not giving up all the hope.
“...okay, so you want chili cheese fries next? Maximum heartburn potential?”
Emma wanted to believe that, maybe there was a rational explanation for things like this. Physics having some kind of theory named after some strange scientist (probably from Europe) about this pocket reality syndrome or something. Nice thought, but unlikely. She’d been in another persons body for a week, not just hallucinating due to some kind of warping in the gravitational whatever, full blown body swapping. That was some crazy magical shit right there.
“Oh, we’re really burning the fuck outta my mouth tonight, okay.” Chili cheese, why not. Worst happened she’d just drink some more, that would totally make the chili better to handle. “I’ll have a pint of lager to help the progression.” Because why not start mixing her alcohols early. She had a point to prove on just how annoying she could be after all.
“You know, all this is does is make me wonder what the hell I’ve got to look forward to.” Some of it included him, so she knew that there’d be something to talk about, someone to laugh at it with. Maybe someone to help her figure out bits as she needed it. “Portals or whatever. I don’t know, makes it a little more exciting than scary.”
Pint of lager it was. Neal lifted his glass, knocking back the rest of his bourbon - and then went with Emma’s choice too, a good beer on tap, something foamy in the mug. “Liquor before beer, you’re in the clear,” he teased her and, when the beers arrived, he touched his mug to hers before taking a long, long gulp. Also delicious. “I guess some of it can be exciting, yeah. And I’m still gonna bug you about stuff. I just wouldn’t want you to feel like you have to piece it out on your own.”
That was really the last thing he wanted for the both of them. Maybe, after she dreamed of the heartbreak, she’d be pissed at him - he wouldn’t blame her, but he was going to dig his heels in and work things out this time. Emma was just always going to be a part of his life, and the opposite was also true. He wanted her to be happy. Wanted her to find Tallahassee, even if it wasn’t with him. “I’ll introduce you to Ruby too,” he added. “She comes by the ranch sometimes. And you meet in the dreams eventually.”
It was a little easier to drink lager and make the night last, and if she was going to go with some spicy foods, she might as well have something to bathe her tongue in while pretending to sip thoughtfully at her glass. “Bug away, although the more unbelievable it gets the more I’m gonna blow up your phone.” Or just nip his ear at work, because she could do that now. Awesome.
She tended to get that ominous feeling that something happened in the dreams, that she was going to see something unfortunate or something bad and he wasn’t all that keen on it happening but it was going to happen anyway. There was no stopping it, only waiting for it. And that was fine. Neal wasn’t running off to hide or leaving her to figure it out herself, that was good enough for her then.
“I’d like that,” He’d mentioned his fiancee a few times, and Emma figured that if she was around the ranch more and Ruby was, then they’d meet eventually anyway, even if she’d apparently dream meet her too. “Although I am not getting involved in any kind of wedding discussions. At all.” That was a level of organization chaos that she was not going near at all.
“How’d you guys meet?” Couple-meeting stories were usually cute, although that could be an entirely different case here.
“Promise the wedding discussions will be, uh, not in your vicinity,” Neal even held up his fingers - Girl Scout’s honor! Or Boy, in this case. It was funny that Garrus teased him about being more detail-oriented about the planning than Ruby was. Well, he didn’t know the first thing about actually planning a wedding, and wanted to do it right, that was all! “We actually met in New York, when we lived there before. Lived in the same building, a shitty one, and we got together to save money on heat,” he grinned. “Okay, I guess because of other reasons too. But then we went our separate ways and ended up in Orange County at the same time.”
Hence why you pretty much ran into at least two people from your past at some point - the Law of Doubles, or something, but for Neal he’d encountered more than two. “I went through some pretty bad dream crap around Christmas time, and after the dust from that settled we got back together. It wasn’t the right time for me to ask her before - we were still figuring out stuff, but now, yeah, it worked out nicely.”
The plate of new fries came then, smothered in chili and probably bacon - the reason they were so good was because the fries were soaked in beer first, Neal was sure of it. Made them extra crispy.
“Aww, that’s so sweet.” It was definitely one of those cute little ‘we were friends for years’ stories, but with a little less in the platonic way of things. Probably a benefit to forming friendships in places. It kind of spoke to the whole ‘being drawn here’ about this place too. If Ruby was in the dreams, there was a deeper connection too.
Picking at the fries a little slower this time, more cautious because hello, chili, not Emma’s favourite slathering of seasoning but she was willing to try anything greasy and likely to give her clogged arteries in later life. Her hand never actually left her glass though, just in case she needed to chug down some liquid as she nibbled.
“How long did you live in New York?” It was a pretty great place, Emma liked it well enough at the time, and she could definitely see the allure of the city, cute apartment sharing girlfriends aside. Especially if they still went back from time to time.
New York was amazing, and Neal wished that he could portal back and forth as easy as Clarice could. But it was just not meant to be. Regina’s purple smoke didn’t extend that far either, he didn’t think. He’d have to ask her. “Oh man, a few years?” he rubbed the back of his neck thoughtfully, also picking around the chili cheese fries like they were a minefield. Nom nom. “There’s just something about the city at night, you know? I’ve never seen anything like it.” The lights, that was what it was. Like they were going to take a bite out of the sky of the city itself. The glow of the graffiti and the scent of cooling asphalt - it was amazing how the city settled down after sunset, settling like ants.
But there was a whole other connection too - Sicilian mafia, with its intricately woven connections, its commandments and its code. His stepfather’s ‘family.’ The ones he wanted to get far away from, so moving back wasn’t an option.
“You know, you’re still not annoying,” he added to Emma, nudging her teasingly. “You’re kind of the best Emma I know.”
“Chicago is a bit like that,” less iconic, less brilliant, but it was nice. Busy and bustling, the weather snaps making it feel just a little like New York at times but in a whole different way. Draining about half of her pint, because tingly tongue was tingly, Emma shook herself out of ‘polite’ Emma and decided fine, time to stop being so worried about impressions.
“How many Emma’s do you know exactly?” Not an uncommon name, but in almost 30 years, Emma have met a startling total of four other people with her name. Not a lot, not at all.
“Okay, so this is where we play a game then. Nice and simple, nothing extreme,” not yet at least. “Twenty questions, and not in the only answering yes or no variety.” That was kind of boring to her, you never really found out much because ‘yes’ didn’t come with the sordid embarrassing story to match it all. “No lying, and trust me, I will know if you lie.” She had a knack for telling.
“I am going to go first, because I am annoying and bossy, so, where is the weirdest place you have ever… had to pee?” Yeah, she was gonna go somewhere else with that at first too.
Neal had some history with Chicago too, and he agreed that it was also an amazing place, even if the pizza wasn’t as good (he was biased, okay). The Windy City was where he first met Lina. And that was where the shit with Joylock went down when they were chasing her long lost lover, this past fall, on the dual Xelloss-Henry search. The same shit he hoped didn’t follow him here, but sometimes we couldn’t get what we wanted. Emma’s question made him laugh though, nearly choking on a mouthful of beer. “Well, I’m a guy, so technically I can whip it out most anywhere,” he winked. “Um...weirdest place? In the parking garage at the airport. Pretty sure it was the top floor too.” Yeah, that was obviously not an answer to the pee inquiry, but rather the place she meant to go beforehand.
“What about you? Also, do I get a question...hmm...” He squinted thoughtfully. “What’s something you tried maybe once or twice, but won’t do again?”
Emma just waved her hand in an approximation of agreement, the whole idea was learning stuff anyway, so of course he could ask her. “Peeing? Probably a used car lot, because I really had a lot to drink that night and it was deserted.” The other thing, well, Emma wasn’t exactly that adventurous with her conquests, not since she got her head on straight and left Miami. She’d just keep that to herself for now.
Considering his question, and the potentially incriminating answers that could go to that, Emma nibbled some more and sipped until she had a soggy fry in her mouth. “Probably a very stupid momentary lapse in judgement that involved motorbikes.” God, that was dumb. “I had a boyfriend one time, this ridiculous compensation,” she gave her eyebrows a wiggle, absolutely sure that he’d get what she meant.
“Anyway, there may have been a race or two and I may have almost completely destroyed some police property and it might’ve be a ‘holy shit I’m turning 25’ crisis.” One to never be spoken of again! “What’s your guilty pleasure movie?”
Peeing in a used car lot, okay, Neal could get behind that. “When you gotta go, you gotta go,” he saluted Emma with his mug. Things were starting to get awesomely fuzzy, but he was still coherent enough. “That’s a hell of a ‘I’m turning twenty-five’ crisis though, I approve. Don’t think I went through one like that...hmmm...” He had to think long and hard about his guilty pleasure movie, since for him, there was a neverending list. Besides anything directed by Michael Bay?
“True Lies. Or Mars Attacks, you know, you pretty much have to watch it stoned. I think it’s the only Tim Burton movie that ridiculously sucks.” Then again, most Tim Burton movies made more sense while under the influence anyway. “Weird, quirky habits? You still have that thing for cinnamon?” he asked, the question coming out before he could stop himself. One of his quirks was that he hated mayo, but she knew that. Used to know that. Weird.
“Oh, no. True Lies is amazing. I’m sorry but any movie where Mr Muscles and Accent can take the piss out of himself?” She had a thing for Kindergarten Cop too. “Mars Attacks and Big Fish, I totally never got that movie. Like… what was it even about?” Definitely a stoned movie. And even then it was hard to tell what was going on.
“Still the cinnamon thing,” which okay, a little strange because they knew each other for a night, but obviously this was the dream thing again. Weird. No one really knew about her cinnamon thing, and while it was mostly just on her hot chocolate, she did occasionally like it on her pancakes or ice cream too. “Probably also my colour coding everything.” She wasn’t organised at all, but she did have a habit of colour co-ordinating her diary, planner, reminders and to-do lists.
“Can you make a whale noise?” Loudly in a bar that was just moderately crowded? Oh yeah.
A whale noise? Neal’s response was a snort of amusement, and because he was kind of cheeky, he said, “I can make one, sure. I guess that means it’s my question now?” Technically, he’d answered his! But no, just to humor Emma (and not back down from what was deemed as a challenge), he cleared his throat, kind of hidden behind his beer mug (he’d need a refill in a bit here), and then proceeded to make the world’s most impressive dying whale noise, perfectly fit for a nature special on the Discovery Channel.
So he got a few heads turning for that one, but most everyone was drunk and debauched, so, mostly safe in terms of potentially calling for a strait jacket.
“You suck,” he laughed, and stole a few more of those chili cheese fries than was probably allotted to him. “But only marginally. You’re still the best Emma I know.”
And he didn’t know any other Emma’s, come to think of it, but if he had? She’d still be the reigning champ. Bam!